


Breath of the Earth

by RikkuShinra



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angel Healing, Blind Character, Gen, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuShinra/pseuds/RikkuShinra
Summary: Ignis gets a divine gift for his birthday.





	Breath of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Todays Ignis' and Aerith's birthday! Amazing huh?

_Mom?_

The way she laughed at the quizzical whisper, searching for something to ground this lost boy in the darkness that wrongfully befell him years ago. It was a sad sight, not that she had not known her own pain and now she was just as tied into this world as she had been to her own Planet eons ago before its journey began.

 _No,_ a soft knowing laugh as if that was not the first time the person had been called that.

_Then who are you?_

He was strong, physically, mentally but he was an emotional mess. Had been since the dawn returned and he could feel the heat of the day sun on his face that the young man he considered a brother was gone. Never to see the light of day that had fought so hard to bring back. Everyone had lost so much, but he had lost the most.

_A friend._

He could feel her hands in his hair, brushing strands of well-groomed hair out of place, down the curve to his neck then back up musing his gelled hair even more. It had taken half an hour to perfect the delicate style of his tawny strands lest they fall into his face, but what did that matter when one could not see. It was still irritating, and it reminded him of a look for his later teen years, how prim and proper he had tried to be as he played growing up. His scared lips reminded sealed as this woman pulled her fingers over the shell of his ears, tracing each delicate curve, each scar won from battles reminding him that he had lived through so much pain. Physical, mental.

_Shh, it’s all right. I will take care of you._

Gently the visor was pulled up and off. He could hear it placed on the table to his left where he kept a photo he could not see and books he had never read. More for decoration. Her hand returned, fingers drifting carefully from the cut on his lip to the bridge of his nose. As her hand moved outward over the curve of high cheekbones to the sharp angle of his jaw, he inhaled sharply as if in pain.

_Mmmhmm, it’s all right, just breath. It won’t hurt._

Shoulders shaking as he exhaled, chest tightening with a deep gulp. In, out, in out, gasp. His teeth ground as warmth pooled under his skin, sweat collecting on his brow as she pushed against his eyes. Her thumbs he could tell her other fingers spread caressed his ears grasping the sides of his face. Whatever was happening did not hurt, but it was warm and there was a heavy pressure at the back of his eyes far from her thumbs. He wanted to pull away, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, comforting not restraining. Gladiolus. He reached up with his own hand grasping the Shield’s hand in his own.

_It’s okay to be scared._

_I am not._

The woman hummed her thumbs moving away from his eyelids, brushing upwards and then over his brow. She repeated the motion, then moved her hand as if messaging his entire face pushing in around the scar tissue. It was nice, being treated in such a manner.

_Open your eyes._

Frowning, he blinked once blurry and pink. He blinked again, slowly it was pink, not black or a mass of mingled colors that he could not decipher the shapes. Quickly he brought his hands up rubbing at his eyes. This time when he blinked her saw color, an explosion of blue and greys, purple lilacs on a vase mingled with tall lavender the fine layer of dust lingering on the waxed piano and the most beautiful painting of King Regis high on the wall beside it another painting of Noctis upon the throne in the same position  forever memorialized in oils.

_How…_

His voice caught and he looked to the side when Gladio, right, it was Gladio his hair longer and pulled back, beard bushier and well-groomed dressed in the mantle his father once wore but there was no denying that the man beside the sofa was Gladio. Prompto smiled beside the Shield no longer a waifish twig of a boy. His uniform fitted to muscle, he stood tall shoulders squared with the confidence of a fighter, a man who knew his worth. Ignis felt the patter on the sofa, the heavy droplets splashing down and separating as he turned to bury his face against Gladio’s hand.

A gift. For something wrongly taken from you Ignis.

Ignis looked at the woman, her long brown hair falling over her in waves if the pink dress she wore. She brought her hand back to his face wiping a fresh round of tears away. Ignis shuddered, body stooping forward as he held her hand, sobbing his praises, his thanks for gifting him his sight.

_Do not cry._

Her free hand stroked his hair.

 _It was wrong, they where wrong_.

Slowly she pulled her hand free and turned. With a grace evoking of the Oracle, she stepped away stilling as she reached a young man who leaned against the door frame, his blue eyes darkening as she took a step past him, her hand resting on his chest. With a nod, she took his hand stepped through the closed door. The man jerked grimacing as a white figure materialized before him.

_See ya soon. Do not do anything I wouldn’t._

The light spread through the room, to a blinding white before returning to one single point. Power hummed through the room and in a blink the power surged outwards disappearing in a bright flash.

 As the room dulled, the late afternoon light pushing past the thin lace curtains the three where reminded loudly of a fourth member among them, a heavy round of coughing pulling all attention to the door as the black figure stood running a hand through black hair.

_Dying, that really hurts. But returning is a bitch._


End file.
